Hello yes I am unleashing my cursed edits

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oozey mess
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@luvdarlingblue
Hello yes I am unleashing my cursed edits
tomodachi life ᯽
tomodachi life gets a bit real <3
warnings: pregnancy discussions, fluff, inaccurate tomodachi life gameplay references lol
a/n: she's backkkkkkk (i thought tomodachi life was pay to play... sue me)
Looking Through My Third Eye
Batman/Bruce Wayne x Reader/Batmom
Masterlist
Summary: Everything in Bruce Wayne's life is going as it should...so why is there a feeling that something is missing? Someone so important he couldn't live without them.
f1 driver!Gojo who left you in college after signing his first contract overseas, telling himself it was the right thing to do because long distance would’ve only dragged you down, and the airport goodbyes would’ve turned into resentment eventually (even though you never once asked him to choose between you and his dreams…)
f1 driver!Gojo told you that he didn’t want you waiting around for him while he chased his dreams, said that he’d rather you hate him now than grow to hate him later. Who actually believed it was “the mature and responsible thing to do”.
f1 driver!Gojo raced with Ferrari at twenty three and threw himself into it headfirst, training until his hands blistered and his body ached, watching his name climb headlines, thinking he’d made the right choice.
f1 driver!Gojo never knew unread messages were sitting in his inbox, never questioned why you suddenly stopped reaching out.
f1 driver!Gojo had five seasons of trophies and interviews and cameras flashing in his face, until he eventually had a bad season and started spiraling. He watched the internet turn on him overnight, scrolled through hate comments at one in the morning in his fancy hotel suite, reading strangers call him “overrated” and “washed up”. Who stared up at the ceiling and thought about the last time someone looked at him without expectations.
f1 driver!Gojo for some stupid reason, drove across the city and stood in front of your door because he couldn’t sit with himself any longer. That, and the fact that you were the only person who ever made him feel loved and supported.
f1 driver!Gojo almost didn’t expect the door to open to your tired face. He also didn’t expect a small kid to run down the hallway, hiding behind your leg, peeking up at him with your hair and his eyes, bright blue and curious.
f1 driver!Gojo almost threw up on your slippers.
f1 driver!Gojo understood before you could say a word. But he listened anyway when you explained that you tried to tell him, that you found out you were pregnant a month after he left. That you called and texted and waited for nothing, because his manager was a piece of shit that never passed along a single message that didn’t fit the image they’d built.
f1 driver!Gojo stood there feeling sick, knowing that you had to go through it all alone – the pregnancy and the birth – while he lived an oblivious life of luxury. Who didn’t get to see first steps, hear first words, or blow out first birthday candles. Who had to acknowledge the fact that he was a stranger in his own son’s life.
f1 driver!Gojo refused to miss anything else. He wanted to see him again and he meant it. He didn’t argue when you reasonably hesitated, agreed to meet at a park the next afternoon because he knew you needed time to talk to your son first.
f1 driver!Gojobarely slept that night from nerves, and showed up early with a small replica of his car in a gift bag because he had no idea how to act around a four year old who’d only heard stories about him. Who had to watch the hesitation in his son’s eyes, the years of distance and disappointment he’d regret for the rest of his life.
f1 driver!Gojo immediately fell in love with this kid though. Listening as he started babbling about racing and different drivers and teams he liked. Who had to swallow down his pride when he learned that his son’s favorite was Verstappen on RedBull instead of him (and the nausea when he innocently mentioned that “mommy thinks he’s cute”).
f1 driver!Gojo loved watching his son light up over the toy car, letting him sit in the driver’s seat of his real one parked nearby, showing him videos from inside the cockpit. Who realized that admiration was easy to earn, that excitement came quick when he had trophies and loud engines and cool stories.
f1 driver!Gojo knew you’d be harder to convince, but he understood that you couldn’t be won over with toys and promises, that you’d been there every day and handled it all alone. Who had to accept that his son reached for your hand first, naturally leaned into your side when he got tired, because trust had been built without him and he’d have to earn his place
f1 driver!Gojo walked back to his car alone afterward, with grass on his jeans and his son’s sweet little voice replaying in his head, desperately trying to figure out how he was supposed to be a father and a Ferrari driver at the same time. But he knew he wanted both.
a/n: this is written very poorly, but my sleep deprived brain is gonna post this anyway without overthinking it
pretty dividers by: @uzmacchiato
PROLOGUE: TETHERED
Yan!Platonic!Batfam X Neglected!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Neglect, mention of torture/ abuse. This story will be mainly on Y/N and Damian pov. Dami is a cutie in this btw.
Dark. That's the only word that could be used to describe the room where the girl was. With hands bound on top of her head, shoulders aching from the uncomfortable position. Her eyes being covered by the white streaks of her hair, not that she could actually see something with all that dark surrounding her. Chest heaving with pain and a blood string coming out of her nose. Outside, as if to mock her misery, the sun shined bright. Everyone went on with their lives, while her own kept disappearing before her eyes.
“Y/N Wayne. Who is she?”- The question hung heavy in the room.
You’re a big girl now! No more daddy’s little girl
Part one - Part two - Part three - Part four - Part five - Part six - Part seven – Part eight
summary: Your family had never truly seen and appreciated you. Might as well move on and live your life!
pairings: platonic!batfam x neglected!gn!reader
cw: A bit of emotional neglect, though none of it is intentional. Mc’s very smart and cool
word count: 2.1K
a/n: this is my first time posting on tumblr, kinda nervous (read: very nervous). My writing’s very rusty, and I am chronically allergic to rereading anything I ever write, so if there are mistakes, uh, I’m super sorry. Also, this is my first time writing anything DC related! So I hope you enjoy this little creation :] Much love
Bruce Wayne didn’t have time for sentimentality.
Those who truly knew him were deeply aware of this information, aware of how he would never truly be present emotionally in any sort of relationship. This included his own horde of children, who, throughout the years, had learned to live with that weighting absence.
Still, in your childhood, you attempted to cling onto the idea of a fatherly figure with an iron grip that even his coldest silences couldn’t break.
Your arrival was a change in the manor, a breeze in a dry desert, the warm sun in a frigid winter. Young, unmarred by the horrors of Gotham city, your new family felt wary to be the ones to taint your innocence. So, as one does when uncomfortable, they spent time elsewhere.
It wasn’t a collective, malevolent decision. It simply arrived like something unavoidable. They still ate with you at dinner, still asked you about your day occasionally, about school drama, or hobbies, but the conversations never went much further. Your relationship didn’t evolve into something closer to family. Instead, it stagnated at polite acquaintances that happened to be roommates and legally related. Nothing more, nothing less.
In a perhaps cynical way, you had expected not to fit in with your siblings. You arrived in a moment where Dick was elsewhere physically, Tim elsewhere mentally, and Steph often appearing and disappearing at the manor at will. Not to mention Jason, since the topic was taboo around anyone, like a ghost story, a warning.
However, childishly, you at least hoped your father – whom you shared blood with, took you in after tragedy inevitably struck as it does in this godforsaken city – would attempt to create a bond with you. You were realistic bordering pessimistic, yes, but you had naively expected him to try. Not even succeed, just put in some effort.
But that small spark of hope quickly died out when you met and began to understand the man in his essence.
The process was short; you’d recall later on. You remembered arriving at the manor, terrifyingly beautiful, haunted by years of history and secrets. It almost felt like one of those mystery slash romance books your mother would read privately in the safety of your home. And this was your home now.
You were greeted at the door by a man with clever eyes and a polite smile and bow, a relaxing accent you had only ever heard in movies introducing him to you, introducing the manor to you. The police officer – whose name you forgot over the years, who had tried cheering you up in the car – bid you farewell, and that was that. A new beginning. New family, new house, new life. Your mother was dead; you had confirmed it yourself. Nothing would ever go back to how it was. But maybe this change would be good for you.
These thoughts lasted four months.
The first person you met was one of your new brothers, Timothy (“Tim” he insisted you call him, as if he stuck around enough for you to call him anything). He was a few years older than you, and according to Alfred, a genius. To you, he kind of looked like he needed a hug and a good nap less he crashes and burn out, but you kept those thoughts to yourself – like you did most of your thoughts.
You met Dick Grayson, Golden Boy with a bright smile, eyebags, and a distracted gaze. He had things to do, a job in a different city, responsibilities as an adult. You understood, let him rush around with no hard feelings, knowing his energy meter would empty eventually. Maybe you could talk to him then. (Who wanted to talk to some random kid your adopted dad took in anyways? You probably would’ve done the same in his place).
Steph was a pleasant addition to your routine, and probably your favorite (after Alfred, of course) of the manor’s inhabitants, even If she didn’t truly live there. She hung around a lot, livening the gloomy atmosphere of the manor while providing feminine energy; something you discovered to be unfortunately rare in you new place. Nonetheless, she had this look in her eye that sometime stole your breath. A look that sometimes haunted you, as if she was searching and searching for something. After a while, she stopped coming around as much, Alfred explaining that with the age, she had new responsibilities. You felt disappointed and a bit bitter, but who were you to complain? She wasn’t your real sister. You both knew that.
A month passed, you talked to your biological father for the first and probably last time. He was quiet – you noticed silently – but attentive. Bruce Wayne never spoke unless necessary, you had heard, but with you, he was soft words and awkward smiles. You felt endeared by his behavior, despite being only eleven years old, and satisfied by his attention. It was like a flower being watered after weeks of neglect, like finally being fed a warm meal after weeks of starvation. The feeling was euphoric, and you brightened when he offered to go on a father-child date to get to know his new kid better.
And like any drug, the crash was abrupt and harsh. He disappeared into the shadows of the manor once more, and the next time you saw him his eyebags were darker and the lines in his forehead deeper. You couldn’t bear to be the one responsible for adding more onto his already seemingly overflowing plate. So, like your father, you let yourself melt into the shadows.
Throughout the years, your father took in more children with varying personalities. Although the manor was fuller, it still held that characteristic darkness to It, like it was destined to be lonely no matter how many people you put in it. You moved on, how could you not? It does you no good to dwell on what could’ve been had you integrated yourself into their circle. The curiosity and hurt would kill you (Though in the dark of the night, sometimes, you let yourself wonder).
You found out about their identities after two years of living with them. A long time? A bit, but how were you supposed to notice signs when they were never there, and this was the first time you were living and actually interacting (as limited as the interactions were) with rich people. At first you thought all rich people were quirky, but when their conversations went on, unaware of your hidden presence, you began realizing that maybe this wasn’t normal.
Resentment was the first feeling on your mind, though it quickly made way for resignation. The discovery reassured you, albeit disappointingly, because it showed you that no matter what you did, you would’ve never been apart of their world. You mourned a bit, yearning for a family; siblings who hung out with you, teased you, protected you, a dad who cherished you, showed you off. Then you moved on.
In fact, it pushed you to do better. Because if your sort-of family could go out to fight crime at night altruistically, you could do your best to help as well.
You began working harder towards your goal, becoming a doctor. Not to impress anyone, but because you wanted to make a difference in this city. You studied hard, pouring your life and soul into schoolwork, barely taking breaks.
Alfred grew worried, but you were as hardheaded and determined as your father, so his attempts to get through to you and push you to rest were all in vain. He even tried going through your siblings or Bruce, but it all fell through.
Silently, bitterly, during another all nighter, you’d sometimes liken yourself to the distant shadow of Tim in your memories. You wondered if this was why he did it, pushed himself to the brink for something. If this feeling was something he also eventually began clinging onto. But you had no time for such thoughts, so you pushed them away.
It was impressive how long you went on without breaking down and burning out. Yet you were a force of nature, a tree that let the weather mistreat it without letting it interrupt it from growing, water that kept flowing.
When you were fifteen, you told your family you wanted to be a doctor over dinner. It had been during an uncharacteristic lull in conversation, and you took the occasion to reveal it casually, like another piece of information, like it wasn’t your motivation and dream.
“And you think you’ll make it as a doctor?”
Your youngest brother and newest addition to the family sneered, an expression that felt wrong on a face so young. You didn’t rise to the bait.
“I’ve been studying a lot for a couple of years. I was just letting you know” you said, though your gaze remained on Bruce.
And since they were still quiet, you chose to drop the bomb.
“Can I practice by patching you guys up after patrol?”
Your question was polite in an almost indifferent way, though your indifference couldn’t hide your curiosity and eagerness for firsthand experience. A cup fell.
“What do you mean?” Dick asked awkwardly with a tense smile “What patrols?”
You deadpanned, rolling your eyes.
“Do you think I’m dumb? I’ve been living with you guys for four years. I’d have to be stupid not to know your secret identities by now”
Damian seemed satisfied with that answer, crossing his arms proudly and mumbling something about ‘superior Wayne genetics’, while the rest of your family had varied reactions. Dick gaped at you, as if your knowing of their identities was unthinkable, Steph seemed somewhat conflicted but amused, Cass… well, she didn’t seem angry (or anything for that matter?), in fact, she seemed proud, and Jason was cajoling loudly.
Nevertheless, the reaction you were looking at was your father’s. Bruce looked at you with an indecipherable expression. As did Tim. But you didn’t break eye contact, you wouldn’t back down – you wouldn’t be worthy of the Wayne name if you let them intimidate you. A deep, tired sigh.
“I had my doubts,” lies, you haven’t seen him in four months, but you’ll let him have it “but the idea isn’t bad”
The shocked reactions broke into disapproval
“They’re a civilian!” “B, they have zero experience, are you insane?-” “I don’t think that is the best idea, father” “That is the funniest thing you’ve said today, old man-” a guffaw.
“Enough” he interrupted. His voice oozed authority, enough to not need to shout for them to all fall silent again. Your father looked in your eyes, deeply, as if seeing something he hadn’t seen or noticed before, something hiding in plain sight.
A sigh “I agree to let you shadow the med area in the cave-” a chorus of complaints and disagreements suddenly interrupted him, but with a glare, they quieted down again “On one condition” he began ominously.
You raised an unimpressed brow. Did he have to be so dramatic about it? A sigh of your own, perhaps it was contagious “Sure. A condition” you repeated flatly. Your first real impression of your family wasn’t turning out to be exactly positive. The urge to retreat into the safety of your room and focus on your studies once more was heavily tempting.
“You’ll obviously need supervision, ideally from Alfred. You have no prior experience” You hummed in agreement. No, duh, you were fifteen, of course you had zero medical experience “You’ll also be required to shadow Dr Thompkins on the weekends to better your knowledge. If you want to help, you’ll help fully”
Perhaps you were more like your father than you thought, because in that moment, you felt like you were seeing him for the first time as well. A bitter taste coated your tongue as you gave an affirmative answer, then returned to your room, doing your best to ignore the argument that exploded at the dinner table after you left. Some things never changed, it seems. They always say what they truly feel and think when you’re not around.
Either way, you were satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, even though your dad’s utilitarian reasoning left a heavy feeling in your chest and a pain you couldn’t explain in your heart.
Nevertheless, that was the beginning of a new period of your life. The beginning of the end, perhaps. Because you are [Name] Wayne, and you were going to become a doctor and help – with the added valor of proving yourself to your family – if it was the last thing you did.
The Sister-in-law Chronicles
Part One: The one where Jason met a pretty girl and Damian wants to pay her to be Jason's friend... or more
Will this lead to anything? Idfk don't get your hopes up I have commitment issues
TW: mentions of reader getting drunk, coercion(?), semi-bullying Jason
Pictures from Pinterest, all credits to original artists/photographers
After the night you had, the last place you wanted to be was at a cafe doing homework. The smell of coffee was too strong, which only made your headache worse. Why did your friends want to go out on a Thursday? You couldn't understand, but at least it was fun in the moment, and a hot guy you were able to dance with.
When a little boy walked up to your table and sat opposite you, you wished you'd never drank at all, ever in your life. It would've spared you the even bigger headache heading your way.
"You don't look old enough to be here." You hummed with a raised eyebrow, sipping your coffee and taking in the boy's small frame.
"I am more competent than half of the people on this campus." The boy responded, crossing his arms.
"Sure." You muttered sarcastically. With a sigh you closed your laptop and set your cup down. "How can I help you, kid?"
"My name is Damian, and I am not a kid. I'm here becuase you were dancing provactively with my brother last night."
"Okayyyy? I was also drunk off my ass last night." You countered and leaned back into your seat.
"My brother does not engage in positive social interaction very often." The boy, Damian, stated and clasped his hands together on top of the table. "You need to befriend him."
"That's sad." The smile you gave him was full of pity he did not need. "It's nice that you're trying to help your brother, but he had lots of people come up to him last night. I'm sure he has options for friends and more."
"He was smiling this morning. Jason never smiles, much less before noon." He argued stubbornly. "You must befriend him."
"Listen, sweetheart, I'm sure your brother is a nice guy, but I'm too busy for this. Maybe find someone else." You laughed airily, the kind of laugh of a woman who was not as busy as she claimed.
"I'll have my father pay for your tuition." Damian blurt out. This was not dicussed with father beforehand, but Bruce would go to great lengths for his childrens' happiness. You didn't need to know any of that, though.
His claim worked to make you pause and narrow your eyes. After a few seconds, you scoffed. "Yeah, right. Be nice to your loser brother and get hundreds of thousands for tuition. What kind of scam are you running here, kid?"
"It is a very serious offer. I am not foolish enough to make false claims to someone who is crazy enough to find my brother a good dance pole." Damian responded and grabbed a pastry from your plate.
"Will your father pay for that danish, too?" You snarked with a grumpy frown. That was supposed to be your hangover cure.
"I will by ten of them right now on my father's behalf if you are willing to go over a contract with me." Damian hummed and took a bite of his newly aqquired treat.
"Fine." You sighed and rolled your eyes, which prompted Damian to pull out a sleek leather folder. He opened it to reveal a multi-page, multi-clause contract that covered almost any situation you could imagine. He spent the next half-hour going over your duties, how long this scheme would last, and payments. And at the very end, a signature from Bruce Wayne himself (forged, of course, since Bruce still had no idea this was happening, but that's irrelevant right now).
"You're joking." You laughed when Damian was finished explaining everything, flipping through each page of the contract again and again.
"I am not." Damian sighed and slid over a pen. "Do you accept?"
His question made you hesitate. It was a nice offer. It felt almost too good to be true, but you had always been a little bit too trusting.
"I accept."
𝔈𝔳𝔞𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𐌉
summary: After ten years abroad, Y/N Wayne returns to Gotham—but the girl who comes back to Wayne Manor is not the same one who left. Quiet, distant, and avoiding everyone but Alfred, she seems like a stranger in her own home. As strange deaths begin appearing across Gotham, the Batfamily slowly realizes that whatever happened during those missing years may be far more dangerous than they imagined.
word count: 2k
tags: batfam x fem!reader , batfamily x slightly!neglected!reader
next
꒰ Damian decided to pay Jason a visit & notice how his body got softer after getting a girlfriend! ꒱
Damian didn’t usually visit his brothers of his own free will. Most of the time, he only stopped by the apartment to grab a quick snack or pick up some accessory that might be useful to him.
But, surprisingly, on that day—on that perfect day—he had decided to be an inconvenience to Todd, simply because he had nothing better to do.
You were in the kitchen, finishing plating the dessert that would accompany one of your movie nights with Jason.
Used to your boyfriend’s entrances and exits through the window and balcony, you didn’t startle when you heard one of them being opened, continuing to hum absentmindedly.
It was only when you turned to wash your hands that you remembered a small detail—Jason was in the shower.
The humming slowly died in your throat.
You dried your hands calmly—much calmer than you actually felt—and turned your head toward the living room, just enough to peek through the doorway.
And there he was, sitting on the couch like he owned the place, legs crossed as he ate popcorn. He chewed slowly, eyes focused on the turned-off television, as if he were waiting for something to start.
He stopped the moment he noticed you.
You stopped the moment you noticed him.
For a long second, neither of you moved.
His green eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, suspicious. “…You are not Todd.”
You blinked once.
“No…” you answered slowly. “And you are definitely not Jay either.”
“uh… why is sensei doing push-ups?” yuji asks, when he, nobara, and megumi enter the classroom.
satoru’s pushing himself up and down with one hand because, according to you, normal push-ups weren’t enough. but even then, he’s barely breaking a sweat. and he’s grinning, while you stand over him, watching with your arms crossed.
his uniform jacket is folded over the back of a chair, leaving him in his compression shirt, arm bulging and back tensing with each lift and fall of his body.
“i upset my-- hah beautiful, smart-- hah strong, gorgeous, perfect wife,” he pants, “punishment fits the crime.”
he really is right where he wants to be.
megumi doesn’t even bat an eye - this was the least unusual thing that you and satoru do. he slides into a chair with a sigh.
“how many does he have to do?”
“a hundred,” you say. satoru lifts his head to look up at you, mouth parted, little pink hearts in his eyes peering at you over the rim of his glasses. “he’s on seventy-two.”
his grin widens. “you know, this isn’t a challenge for me. why don’t you sit on my back, sweetheart?”
you crouch down in front of him and his eyes light up. “i know what you want, and you don’t deserve my touch.” you push his head down so he’s facing the floor again, and he grunts when you press extra weight, forcing his body down. “only twenty-three left. you can do it, my love.”
if his heart wasn’t beating fast enough before, it definitely was now. especially with the saccharine tone you used at the end of your sentence.
god, was he down bad.
“… call us when you’re done,” megumi says, already out of the classroom.
silly thought inspired by this video HAHA can you tell he makes me a little a lot insane
ROMANCE KAISEN: BEHIND THE SCENES !!
the show? romance kaisen 🌹 the leading lady? you 🤗 your beau? all the male cast 😛 the otp? *cue crashing noises and endless bickering*
content: language, crude humor, crack fic, modern au, actor au, celebrity au, i made jjk a romance comedy, gojo x y/n and sukuna x y/n centered + slight nanami x reader, everyone is an adult, hints of reverse harem, JUST ABSOLUTE SHENANIGANS
➽─────── choso pulled…you?! ───────❥
access the verse here !
“…this is my girlfriend.”
the room fills with absolute, soul-leaving-the-body silence.
you step into the living room, smile bright and easy. “hi! i’ve heard so much about you guys!”
you wave, and your bracelets jingle, your hair bounces, your voice is warm and musical.
and you look…yeah. you look insane.
low-cut top, skirt that fits just right, glossy lips and sparkling eyes. the kind of pretty that makes people sit up straight without realizing.
across from you, gojo’s frozen. geto’s blinking like his brain’s buffering, and toji stares at you, a little dazed.
“choso talks about you all the time!” you continue, undeterred, clasping your hands together.
three heads snap towards choso, who’s’ standing there stiffly, one hand hovering near your back, his face dusted pink.
gojo’s mouth opens and closes. “…huh?”
“girlfriend?” geto repeats for clarification.
you hum, looping your hands through choso’s arm. “yeah!”
“how,” toji adds, very seriously, “did you pull her?”
you gasp softly. “oh my god, that’s so rude—”
choso stiffens, but before he can say anything : “he didn’t pull me,” you continue, almost offended. “i liked him first.”
silence. again.
“you like weird, quiet choso?” gojo asks incredulously. “you can’t even see his eyes! his hair’s—”
“he’s perfect,” you say with a grin. “choso’s so sweet. he listens to me ramble, like, all the time, which is impressive, honestly.”
choso’s ears redden. “i don’t mind,” he says quietly.
you smile at him. “i know.”
gojo presses a hand to his chest. “this has to be a glitch in the matrix.”
toji just laughs. “nah, the quiet ones always—”
“alright,” choso says, and his hand finally settles at the small of your back, gentle but certain. “we’re going upstairs.”
you brighten immediately. “oh! okay!” you lean up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“lead the way,” you hum.
choso’s entire face goes red, from collar to ears, eyes wide for half a second before he manages a stiff nod.
“…yes,” he manages, already turning, one hand finding yours.
“wait, are we watching that movie you mentioned? the weird one with the—”
your voices fade up the stairs.
after a few seconds, gojo launches to his feet. “how—how did he—she’s—”
“a campus ten,” geto supplies.
“a twelve,” toji corrects.
upstairs, in choso’s room, you curl into his side, nuzzling your face happily into his neck.
“do you think they liked me?” you ask nervously, chewing on your bottom lip.
choso gives you a small smile, kissing your forehead. “i’m sure they did.”
you tangle your legs with his, reaching for the remote. “well, it only matters if you like me, anyway.” you give him a pointed look, smiling. “which you better.”
“i do! i do, a lot,” choso splutters with a reddened face.
“good,” you giggle, and choso flushes even more.
The colour of the sky, the sound of the rain
Ren Amamiya x Fem! Reader ♯ Spring Rain - Oscar Dunbar Synopsis: You find Morgana in the rain, not knowing that his owner is the cute boy you've had a crush on. You bring him to your apartment, and with nothing much to do, you confide in the little cat about your feelings towards Ren, surely he won't tell on you since he can't talk, right? Genre: fluffy fluff Cw: Morgana being a devil. Mutual pining. Ren usage. Mentions of being sick. I fear I failed to capture Ren's nonchalantness. I also fear I might have rushed the ending a bit. Wc: 3.2k
jason doesn't want any of that wholesome family bs (they stayed for 2 more hours)
com-meow-nication⸻ adventures of Catoru & Geto Suguru.
cw⸻SFW, fluff, pre-established relationship, gender-neutral reader, Satoru the cat—he is a menace, but he is so cute, nanami mention! profanities, nothing else lol.
a/n: happiest birthday to the cutiest patootie <3 i miss my dumb big pretty cat :(
Giving Satoru buttons was just not one of your best ideas.
To elaborate, you saw this cat on Instagram communicate with its owners through buttons. Essentially it worked like this: you give the cat a few buttons; upon pressing the button, a voice says a word. Now, over time, you teach your cat what to associate that word with; it might be a feeling or an object. It looked fun, and who didn't like a little behavioral experiment?
Well, it's all fun and games, but knowing how much Satoru meowed and followed you around when you were over at Suguru's apartment while meowing, or when he'd slip into the bed between you and Suguru (after unlocking the bedroom door all by himself) while you two would be leaning in for a kiss, to then meow a bunch in your face like he was telling you the most fascinating story, or when you'd take him to the park and he'd come back to you after meeting some of his neighborhood cat friends, like he was telling you all about his playtime, you should've known Satoru would not stop yapping through buttons as well.
Because that's exactly what happened.
It started off easy; you gave him a button for the words "treat" and "eat" so he could ask for treats or let you guys know when he's hungry. Then you gave him buttons that said your name and Suguru's name. It was fun, like asking a baby, 'Who's Mom?' 'Who's Dad?' 'Who do you like more?' silly questions like that. Then Suguru gave him a button that said 'shit,' for which you shouted at Suguru for hours once you randomly came back from your work trip to find Satoru spamming the word 'shit' a bunch of times. Even though it frustrated you to handle your unserious boyfriend and his drama queen cat, who's just as much your cat now, you also found the whole thing quite funny. Not that you'd ever admit to it. Unlike you, though, Suguru simply found it entirely hilarious to have Satoru spam 'shit' every time he did not get his way after spamming the word 'treat.'
But what goes around comes around.
"No, Satoru, I hold you; you can't come to dinner with us. This is a Michelin-starred restaurant, and it's OUR anniversary!"
Satoru started whining again while you petted his back with a matching frown.
"Don't encourage him; he will keep throwing a tantrum." Suguru sighed as he walked over to grab his tie.
"But I don't want to leave him at home on our anniversary!"
"Exactly, it's OUR anniversary. Why are you worried about him? Nanami is the most responsible man we know; be glad he agreed to pet-sit Satoru, even though he chewed up Nanami's glasses."
Somehow knowing Suguru was badmouthing him, Satoru meowed a short, sharp meow at Suguru and jumped off the bed to hop on the table with his buttons. And proceeded to communicate with great words through his great intellectual prowess.
Suguru. Eat. Shit.
Accelerate
pairing: gojo x milf!reader
synopsis: a story in which a depressed satoru gets sent to the future and sees just how bright it eventually becomes. meanwhile, you're reminded of how much of a brat your husband used to be when you first started dating.
cw: MDNI, time travel, smut w/ a touch of angst bc we LOVE plot, satoru's actually so mean at first lol, dad!jo (him and reader share a daughter together)
notes: hiiii we got 6.5k words for this one ❤️ comm for the lovely @sadlittlecucumber i hope u like!!!!
song rec: drag path — twenty one pilots
Satoru’s life ended up being a fucking bummer.
His best friend’s a mass murderer. Shoko’s gone off to do her own thing with medicine. Nanami left to go become a banker or whatever. Ijichi’s… Ijichi. Oh, and Haibara’s dead. Everyone who’s alive seems to have moved on— so should Satoru, honestly. But times proved that to be quite difficult.
He’s starting to understand where Suguru was coming from with the whole exorcise-absorb mantra. Except for him, it was exorcise and destroy, leaving every cursed site he’s stepped foot on looking like god himself decided to hit the reset button to obliterate the place.
Nobody says anything about it. He’s probably the closest thing to a god. Despite having tried his hardest all throughout his youth to fit in and act as if he was just like everyone else, people were still terrified to fuck with him.
And despite the chaos he’s constantly surrounded by— mainly from his own doing— the days still find a way to bleed into each other, morphing into a never ending cycle of boredom and violence. It’s quite the combo. The higher ups are lucky he’s too tired to plot anything behind their backs.
He’s exhausted.
The past is too blurry. The future’s too bleak.
Gojo was bound to fuck up sooner or later. The thought of him finally snapping like Suguru did, dangling in the back of his mind, taunting him.
The Girl in the Shadows
Bruce Wayne x Reader
Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is 20 Bruce is 28), Secret Relationships, Class Difference, Angst, Protective Bruce Wayne. Manipulation, slow burn romance,
A/N: this idea came up because I use to have a HUGE crush on Gregory Peck and always believed that if he was still alive he would have been a really good Bruce Wayne. This was also because I listened to a shit ton of Frank Sinatra. Their will be a part two so let me know if you wanna be tagged by either doing my taglist or letting me know down below